


Christmas Gifts

by crow (witchfire)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchfire/pseuds/crow
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 11
Kudos: 144
Collections: Snarry Christmas 2020





	Christmas Gifts

Severus Snape was going to kill somebody.

It had all begun when Harry finally opened up to him, sharing a critical detail about his life he had apparently never told anybody before. They had been wrapped around each other, sheets drenched in their sweat, chatting about casual matters and sharing a bottle of wine. Too exhausted to get out of bed or even reach for a wand to summon glasses, they drank directly from the bottle. Maybe it was the alcohol or their warm afterglow, but when Severus mentioned that Harry was his favorite Christmas present Harry had flushed and muttered something about rarely getting decent gifts from anybody but his friends.

“What, did those muggles fail to shower you with the appropriate amount of presents as a child?” Severus scoffed.

“You could say that.” Harry shifted in his arms, wrenching the bottle from his hand to take a long swig. “You could also say they never got me anything. Well, that’s a lie. They gave me a fifty pence coin once. Some trash a few other times. Does that count?”

He looked away, staring at the wall with a petulant frown as if embarrassed to have revealed something so personal. Severus set aside the empty bottle. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they give you trash?”

“Beats me. Maybe to make sure I knew they hadn’t forgotten to get me anything. Not that it matters. I wouldn’t want anything of theirs anyway.”

“If they neglected to do that I can only imagine how else they failed you as guardians.” Severus only knew the bare minimum about the Dursleys. It was obviously a topic Harry wasn’t enthused to discuss.

“It’s whatever. I cooked and cleaned for them and they gave me a room.” Harry shrugged, “It’s not important.”

“Did they ever hurt you?” Something about the way Harry kept his eyes averted made him ask. Harry only rolled away from him. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“No. Well, I guess you could kill them for me,” Harry laughed. “Or you could fuck me again. That’d make me feel loads better.”

Severus could only oblige. He had no other option than to find a way to clear that dark look from Harry’s face. He kicked the sheet off of them, struggling just a moment where it had wound around their legs before kneeling over Harry on his hands and knees. He grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him onto his stomach. Harry was ready for him, still stretched and pliant enough to take a finger easily. It only took a few long licks for Severus’s saliva to reactivate the lube still smeared all over his opening. He held him still with one hand against his back, and guided himself inside with the other.

Tension broke within Harry with each inch, his hands curling into their pillows as he shuddered against the mattress. Severus began thrusting into him with just the right intensity he knew would drive all thoughts from Harry’s mind, but he couldn’t erase what Harry had said from his own. The Dursleys were an abstract concept to him- faceless bodies with only names and hatred attached. He wondered how difficult it would be to find their address. He could check the student records easily enough and track them down and then-

The lack of response to the question had been all the answer he needed. They had hurt Harry.  _ His Harry _ . He was going to make them pay for that. Reaching beneath Harry to wrap his fingers around his straining cock, he came to a decision. Harry convulsed beneath him as he thought,  _ I’m going to fucking kill the Dursleys _ .

\----

It had been a simple matter to find 4 Privet Drive, less so to convince Harry to stay behind. He had given in at the end, as he usually did, and let Harry come along. They held hands as they made their way down Privet Drive, Harry’s grip tightening as they approached the perfectly manicured lawn.

“Nice to see they’ve found somebody else to cut the grass for me,” Harry muttered. 

As far as Severus knew it had been years since Harry had stepped foot on the Dursley’s property. He watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye as they approached the front door. The sun had set hours ago and all of the lights were off inside.

“Maybe we should come back when they’re awake,” Harry said, but his wand was already in his hand. He unlocked the door and hurried inside, dragging Severus in with him.

The entryway was a narrow hall lined with framed photos of an unpleasant young man, a staircase to the right. Harry nodded to the cupboard door under the stairs. “That was my bedroom for a while.”

Severus saw red at the comment but said nothing, only tightening his grip on Harry’s hand. He followed Harry into a tacky living room, wrinkling his nose at the vulgar floral wallpaper. A plastic Christmas tree adorned the front of the room. The room smelled musty, like there was mildew hiding beneath the beige carpet. Harry dropped his hand to fiddle with his glasses and ran a hand through his hair.

“Right. So. I dunno if Dudley lives here anymore but they’ll be asleep upstairs.”

“Wait just a moment, I’ll bring them downstairs.” Severus pulled Harry in for a brief kiss before turning back to the stairs.

The steps creaked under his weight, making him wince as he made his way upstairs. There were four doors and he checked the two open rooms first. One was the restroom, the other an abandoned bedroom. Weren’t there only four people living there when Harry was a child? Why would they put him in a cupboard when there would have been an empty bedroom? He found Dudley’s room first. The young man was a shapeless pile under a pile of blankets. Severus stunned him and left him in the bed before moving to the other room. 

Vernon Dursley was snoring loudly, sprawled out on his back with his wife tucked into the corner under his arm. Severus froze for a moment when he saw her face but he saw very little resemblance to her sister. She looked cruel, even while asleep. He stunned them as well and levitated the three bodies down the stairs, not wasting any effort on keeping their heads from bumping into the banister. 

Harry had kicked off his shoes and was lounging on the only couch, peeling apart a silk flower he had likely plucked from the strikingly ugly arrangement over the hearth. He glanced up at the sound of Dudley’s body landing on the floor. “Oh. Figures he’d be home for the holiday.”

The Dursleys were all but screaming through open eyes, staring at Harry in horror from their pile on the floor. Severus moved to stand by the couch and placed a hand against Harry’s cheek. “Was there anything you wanted to say to them?”

“Not really. I, er. I might go outside for some air actually. You… do whatever you want.” Harry stood up, the shredded flower dangling forgotten between his fingers.

“I don’t have to do this, love. We can leave. I can obliviate them right now and we can go home.” 

Harry leaned against him, taking deep measured breaths. “No, it’s ok. It’s fine. Ask them whatever you want. Any questions you might have about little kid Harry. I don’t want to talk about it ever again after tonight.”

Severus held him, kissed the top of his head, both cheeks, nuzzled Harry’s face. Harry clung to him with his eyes squeezed shut. They stayed there for a long time, breathing together as Harry fought to maintain his composure. Their hands found each other as Harry stepped back, tears brimming in his eyes. “Just make it hurt, ok?”

Severus nodded. “I can do that.”

“Great. Thanks.” Harry pulled away and fled out of the house, not sparing the Dursleys a second glance as he passed them. Severus locked the door behind him.

He removed Vernon’s stun first. The man let out a loud gasp and struggled to his feet, immediately tripping over his son as he scrambled away from Severus. He fell on his back with a heavy thud and a yelp.

“Vernon, is it?” Severus asked, trailing his fingers along his wand as he walked toward him. “I have a few questions for you.”

\----

Harry trudged into the back garden, casting a patronus to light his way once he was safely hidden behind the Dursley’s high fence. The stag drifted ahead of him, its soft light diffused in the misty dark. He focused on the happy memory he used to cast the spell, one from only a few days ago when Severus had given him a bundle of flowers and a promise that they would always be together. The stag stopped in the middle of the yard, barely illuminating the surrounding shrubs. Harry could just see his breath by its light and held his arms to fight off the cold. He hoped Severus would hurry up. This felt so pointless but Severus wanted to know, wanted to do something. He wondered how long it would take for him to finish everything. If he could wrench those long-buried secrets from the last of Harry’s family. Of course he could- this was Severus after all.

It didn’t take long. Green light flashed through the windows, briefly flooding the garden. One flash, and then another and another. Harry shivered with relief. It was over. It was finally all over. He sat down on the cold grass, the first traces of frost crunching beneath him.

A white doe drifted into the garden and met Harry’s stag, nudging their faces together. Harry slid off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt, tears obscuring his blurry vision. He pushed the frames back onto his nose and looked up to see Severus staring at him. His breath caught in his throat.

“I- uh. Did you want to ask me something?”

Severus fell to his knees and crushed Harry against his chest. They stayed there a while, shivering in the cold, shivering at the memory of loss, of pain.

“Merry Christmas, my love. Was there anything else you wanted?”

Harry smiled through the tears dripping down his face. “Well, I’ve always wanted to burn a house down.”

  
  



End file.
